


Rocks Don't Have Soft Caramel Insides

by cuddlesome



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Clinging, Comfort Sex, Dramedy, Explicit Language, F/M, Groping, Locker Room, Mommy Issues, Porn With Plot, Rare Pairings, Sulking, just a hint of smut. just a dash lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Gordie acts like a stroppy git after losing to his mum during the Galarian Star Tournament. That doesn't stop Klara from coming on to him.
Relationships: Kurara | Klara/Makuwa | Gordie
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Rocks Don't Have Soft Caramel Insides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochacreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochacreams/gifts).



> If you ask me, Gordie's image of acting stylish and confident, while ultimately sincere, comes off as performative while his moments of insecurity and anger seem more uncontrolled and genuine. I think Klara would find both his fan-pleaser aspect and the cantankerousness he hides from the public appealing since she totally tends to opt for those things, too.
> 
> Hope you like this, mochacreams, because it is 100% your fault I wrote it.

If it were up to Gordie, he'd take on two opponents alone. He's plenty flashy and vainglorious enough all by himself, thank you. Klara only has him beat when it comes to being downright garish with her clothes and personality. She shakes his hand with both of hers and with such force that it feels like she's about to yank his arm out of its socket.

"It is so super cool to meet you. You are, like, Arceus' gift to the world."

"Always happy to meet a fan," Gordie says, offering a smile.

It's the stock phrase, but it makes her let out a squeal. Despite his annoyance, he plays nice with her, tolerating her bubbly mannerisms and the way she keeps touching all over him. Even when they're on the entrance to the pitch she keeps at it.

"Don't rumple the suit," he says mildly.

She attempts to smooth out the fabric where she had just been messing with a cufflink. 

They're slated to fight Raihan and Leon. Rough for a first round, but with his pokémon's immunity to sandstorms it shouldn't be too tricky.

Just as they're about to walk out, there's an announcement: "Due to unforeseen circumstances, the former champ won't be able to make it to today's match."

The crowd's reaction is immediate, deafening disappointment.

"Oh, that might make things a little less super awful," Klara comments.

"There will be a substitution," the announcer continues.

Gordie's heart sinks when the cover is revealed. The crowd's cheers rival the disappointment from before.

"What great bloody luck," he mutters.

Gordie bristles when he sees his mother out on the pitch. She smiles at him. He plasters his own signature smile on and waves at the fans, but he burns up inside throughout the battle. He makes stupid, stupid mistakes, just like he always does when she's watching.

He barely notices Raihan beside her and that’s probably a large part of why he and Klara lose. Focusing on just one opponent sort of defeats the purpose of a double battle.

“It's over," Klara says, skipping after him into one of the private locker rooms rather than the communal one. “You're gonna break your hands if you squeeze them any tighter."

Gordie hadn’t even noticed that he was doing it, but the moment he relaxes his clenched fists he realizes he’d been cutting into the palm of his ungloved hand with his fingernails. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly.

"Yanno, you’re really cute when you’re angry. Like—" she deepens her voice comically low in what he supposes is an imitation of him. “‘I will win, no matter what, I’m going to crush you into little bits of gravel.’ But then you don’t actually win and you’re sad and mad. Smad."

He pushes his sunglasses up on his head. “Seeing my mother threw me off, that’s all.”

Why isn’t there a vending machine in here? He’s parched. He also got sand in his mouth at some point thanks to Raihan. Klara follows after him as he attempts to look around for something he knows isn’t there.

“That was your mummy? Huh, I can see the resemblance now. Pretty and soft but so so intense. She runs your fan club, you know.”

“I know.” Anyone who's opened a pack of league cards knows that.

“Ooo, you seem really mad. Would you say your relationship with her is... rocky?" She lifts her eyebrows affectedly. "Get it? Ro—"

"I get it." He sits down on one of the benches and shrugs off his suit jacket.

“Nooo, don’t be angry at me! That makes it so much less cute.”

She collapses to her knees in front of him and hugs his leg, fake crying in a way even a toxel would find obnoxious. He rolls up the sleeves on his jersey—he’s too used to Circhester weather, it’s so hot in here—and rolls his eyes.

It doesn’t take long for her to get distracted from her little act. She strokes one of his calves and nuzzles it.

"Wow, so muscley."

"Yeah, they've gotta hold up all this." He grins in spite of himself and gestures to his ample torso.

Not to mention propel him into flips.

“Hee hee! Just perfect! You’re so balanced. Strong and soft, both at the same time.” She pokes his calf and his thigh in time with the adjectives, then narrows her eyes in an oddly foreboding way. “You still look grumpy, though.”

“Losing a battle and dehydration’ll do that.”

He’s going to insist to the staff that a vending machine needs be moved in here so he can get water and galarade. They need one with food, too, so he can singlehandedly empty it eating his feelings. Gotta maintain that strong-to-soft ratio Klara seems to like so much somehow.

“You’re thirsty? Why didn’t you say so?” She produces a can of lemonade from a pocket he hadn’t been able to make out in her fluffy jacket and holds it out.

He blinks at the offering and accepts it. “Thanks.”

“Super considerate Klara’s got you, babe.”

The sugar is going to make him even thirstier, but whatever. It’s better than nothing. He pulls the tab and sets to guzzling the lemonade while Klara moves her hands from squeezing his calf to squeezing one of his thighs. It occurs to him over halfway through that the drink could be poisoned somehow. That wouldn’t really be surprising, given her pokémon.

Klara gets up from the floor and straddles his lap, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He's vaguely annoyed and leans away but tolerates it otherwise. He's had fans grope his arse in front of massive crowds of people. It's hard not to be a little numbed to physicality.

She looks at her reflection in the gemstone on his necklace, humming to herself. She's wearing spritzee perfume. It smells like off-brand and hangs around her like a cloud of poison.

"Oh no, my lipgloss smudged," she gasps, trying to wipe the excess off, leaning in even closer to her reflection so her breasts are crushed to his gut. "When did that happen?"

The huge bow on top of her head brushes his face as she worries over her makeup. Usually people take the hint and go away when he’s sulking post-loss. Giving him treats and snuggling up closer is strange and nonsensical, but he supposes that suits her. He finishes the can of lemonade and sets it aside on the bench.

“You're being awfully cuddly considering we just met today."

"Maybe I just wanna be friends but you're throwing up all these volcaliths." 

He looks pointedly at where her chest is pressed to him. "Friends, huh?"

"Mmhm." She taps the tip of his nose with her index finger. “But just like with a rock, I’ve gotta get past that hard outside to get to the soft caramel inside.”

“That... isn’t how rocks work," he says, batting her hand away.

Breaking into a geode would probably be a more apt turn of phrase.

“Whatever! Point is, you're feeling like rubbish right now, but your new friend Klara—" she gets that unnerving expression again "—can make you feel all better."

“How do you plan on—“

She grinds her clothed crotch against his, grinning widely. Should’ve guessed.

Gordie reaches up, thoughtful, and strokes her hip, prompting a series of giggles. 

"Is that a 'maybe?'" Klara asks.

"Depends. Did you bring protection?"

"So—" She draws back and pushes the tips of her index fingers together. "It would be really cool if we did it raw—"

He scoffs. “Forget it, then."

"We would make such cute babies," Klara whines, clinging to him as he attempts to push her off.

He smiles at her, but it's strained. "Doesn't matter how cute they are, I'd be a terrible parent." 

If he's anything like Melony, he'll crush any kid's self-esteem under his heel without even intending it. He loves his siblings, but the occasions where he's had to take care of them have made it very clear to him that he doesn't want children of his own, at least not now, and never with her. Not to mention the distinct possibility of being tied to Klara because she couldn't be arsed to bring a condom.

"Me too, probably, except for dressing them up in cute little outfits."

"Great. We're in agreement. Get off of me."

"Waitwaitwait. I'm offering you free fanny and you're just rejecting it?"

Gordie leers and leans in close to her. "I'm one of the most popular gym leaders in the region, love. You think I have trouble getting laid?"

Based on her confused expression, that's a resounding yes. "How could I know that everyone in Galar shares my love for chubby blokes?"

"Watch it." In truth, calling him "chubby" is probably the most charitable word for it, but it still rankles him. 

She sighs. "Okay, okay. You win. We can fuck some other time. How do you want me, then? You want me to suck you off?"

"Not really."

"Aughhhh. Okay." Finally, finally, she removes herself from his person, but not without a sniffle. 

She stands up and turns away, the sounds of exaggerated, fake crying increasing.

"You really think that's going to work?"

"That what's going to work?" She asks, looking tearfully over her shoulder. 

Gordie leans back on the bench, mulling it over. Now that she isn't actively trying to coerce him beyond the fake tears, he can actually consider it. He's always hated being told what to do.

He considers Klara as she flits throughout the room, sighing and weeping, throwing herself against lockers. He could do leagues better, but she's pretty enough and has a penchant for stroking his ego when she isn't pissing him off. His fans will tear her to pieces the second they walk outside. Might as well take what she's offering while she still likes him.

"Fine," he says.

She rushes back over, mascara-blackened tears dabbed away in moments. "So you did want me to suck your cock, right? You were just playing hard to get before."

"If that's what makes you feel better." 

She pouts. “Augh, really? You want my mouth full so you don’t have to listen to me talk, right?”

She has to be joking. "I didn't say that. Besides, you suggested it."

"It's true, though. I can see it in your beautiful eyes. Jerk. Can I at least get a kiss first?"

Klara squishes his cheeks with both hands and mashes their mouths together. It's slick and rough and gross, but her lip balm tastes like pecha berries and her breasts are crushed up against him again. His cock had given a couple twitches of interest before, but now he's actually starting to get hard. He groans into her mouth as she circles her hips against him. Her attitude before killed any arousal. Now that they’re actually in agreement about what they’re going to do, he can appreciate squeezing her curvy rump in his hands and the surprising strength in the arms hidden under that fluffy jacket.

She separates from the kiss with a gasp, leans in to give him another wet peck—“Mwah!”—then starts to kneel down.

"Hey. Use this for your knees." He hands her his jacket. 

"What a gentleman." She holds his jacket to herself, eyes sparkling. "You do care."

"I can't be a complete git all the time."

She gives him a teasing look. “What if I rumple it, huh?”

“I’m a little past caring about that,” he says, cupping his clothed erection in his hand.

He lifts himself up off of the bench for long enough for her to pull his shorts and pants off all in one move. She squeals in delight over his genitals like they’re a cute pokémon. It’s very strange but almost flattering.

“Wowww.” She narrows her eyes, lascivious. "A rock-hard cock, just for me."

Gordie rolls his eyes. Never heard that one before.

“You didn’t think you’d get this far, did you?”

“Nope. Hold on, hold on. It’s way too hot in here.” She rips off her jacket, shirt, and bra in short order.

Gordie is rewarded for his patience by having one of her plump breasts pressed to his leg. She has a luvdisc tattooed on each of her nipples. That's just cute. He coughs into his fist to hide a smile.

"Teeth or no teeth?" Klara asks.

It takes him a moment to understand the question. "Teeth or—Arceus, of course I don't want you to use your teeth."

"Do you like having your bollocks played with?" It sounds like she's filling out a medical form.

He considers. "Gently."

"Ah, sensitive all around. That sounds about right for someone like you."

What's that supposed to mean? He scowls at her but has a hard time staying mad when she takes his cock in her mouth. His eyes flutter shut as she cups his bollocks in one hand. He quickly discovers she’s skilled enough at giving head that he can almost forgive everything that led up to this point. She takes him deep right away, letting him feel her throat contracting around the head as her tongue encircles the shaft.

She hums in delight around his cock as he strokes her hair. The vibration has his hips jerking. She keeps him pinned to the bench with a hand on his thigh.

Gordie swallows. All of the anger he'd amassed over the day doesn't seem as strong when he has the liquid heat of arousal pooling in his guts. Bliss. He should've taken her up on her offer sooner.

He opens his eyes when he hears her slide her shorts off and begin touching herself. She's soaked, he can hear it as she rubs her lips.

Gordie starts to lean forward. “I can help you out."

He doesn't know what he plans on doing from this position, but ignoring her needs while she sucks him off is just inconsiderate.

She lets go of his cock, letting it bounce back against his belly. “You keep your beautiful arse right where it is. It’s fine. I basically creamed myself just seeing you. I'm close."

"You sure? I don't let just anybody sit on my face."

She springs to her feet, almost tripping over his jacket and the shorts around her ankles in the process. "Whaaat—? You didn't mention that part. You really mean it?"

She looks equal parts adorable and sexy standing there with a blush coloring her naked breasts and her upper thighs gleaming with her juices.

"You've managed to get me into a good mood. So I guess you were right about making me feel better, new friend." He smirks. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

They switch it up so that he lays on his back on the bench, ready for her to clamber on top of him and go right back to sucking his cock. He takes his sunglasses off, wary of stabbing anything important between her legs with them. She deserves to just have his soft face and tongue on her there.

Klara isn't so bad, Gordie reflects as he sucks on her labia. He'll show her the back exit so his rabid fans won't kill her on sight. It's the least he can do.

Maybe they should do this again sometime. Minus the losing part. A victory fuck will be much more satisfying than whatever this is, but that's saying something, because this feels really, really good.


End file.
